Heath

This is the day I’ve been looking for. All it takes is the sun to shine. Glory.

I’m in a cross town bus, going to Hampstead with a little overnight bag. Off to see a friend. Her ex is coming to get some of his stuff, and return some of hers. I don’t think he’s going to show up to be frank. He’s pretty self involved so it wouldn’t occur to him that she’ll spend all the hours of sunlight inside waiting in case he comes. I’m coming just in case he does bother to appear and then gets violent. He won’t. He’s a bully, but like all bullies he’s also a coward.

This is beautiful, looking out of the windows at a city surprised by the sunshine. Everyone is hot in too many layers. We’ve been conditioned to mistrust the weather. Putting on shorts at this time of year is a sure-fire way of guaranteeing a thunderstorm. But for now I can properly believe that the corner has been turned and we’re out of the woods until autumn. We’re not. But I’ve got this optimism problem. And I’m sticking with it.

I did some pretend virtual reality swordfighting today in a studio under Poland Street. A commercial casting. I’m trying to raise the money to get my shop front in order so it’s easier for my agent to pitch me for the work I want to be doing. This weather is helping me come out of the little spiritual hole I’m in. Lack of funds affects my mood more profoundly than it ought to. So I’m hoping the universe will throw some nicely paid acting work my way soon. It’s not like I haven’t been working hard the last fifteen years. But perhaps I could’ve been working smarter.

I wrote my first commercial writing pitch yesterday. I find it easier to pitch for writing because my heart isn’t tangled up in doing it. Although I’ve got “The Garden of Eden” on my lap (Hemingway’s last) and if the world was full of money I’d go to Spain, walk from Salamanca to Santiago di Compostela with my mother’s holy water, and write the Quixotic novel that I’ve been cooking for the last year or so. Then I’d make sure I played the part in the film adaptation once it’s a bestseller.

You see what a difference the sunshine makes??!! It’s why I need to jink my life so I can spend January and February in sunshine. Half a day of sunlight and I’m back to dreaming bright and big. What have I been doing hiding in a hole? Onwards for glory!!

I’m secretly hoping this nasty little man shows up and returns the stuff he took, as I’d like a walk on Hampstead Heath. Meantime back to my notepad…


He came, and was quietly respectful of the shitstorm his unkindness had catalysed. I had nothing to say to him but thankfully I didn’t have to stop him punching. And my friend and I went on the heath as the day turned. I was giving Hex the snake a bath when I booked a last minute dayjob near my flat, so now I’m rushing home on another crosstown bus to get some shuteye. God bless the 24. God bless my friend. She’s finally got rid of that self-important asshat. Better by far with a snake.

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Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

One thought on “Heath”

  1. Funny that about fencing. I used to hang out in Malibu, in the old days when it was ramshackled houses. My chum their was a brilliant scriptwriter and he introduced me to this super fit eighty something fellow. I said, after my sixth margarita, what is your claim to fame? He said, I taught Errol Flynn to fence. OK that’ll do come on in. My friend’s house lent precariously over the ocean and the entire one level house was a bar. No idea where they slept, probably on the beach.

    Like

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